


Operation: Drarry

by hajimetooru_ittetsu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, based on a prompt, the school tries to sail a ship that's already canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hajimetooru_ittetsu/pseuds/hajimetooru_ittetsu
Summary: "I think the entire school's trying to set us up together," Harry blurts out, the words leaving his mouth in a rush."Oh, so you've finally noticed?""I—what?You know?"Draco smiles fondly at his oblivious boyfriend. "Really, Harry. They aren't exactly being subtle about it. The entire school's been in on it since...hmm...I'd say at the very least, last year.""Well I didn't—wait! When you say the entire school..." Harry trails off, licking his lips nervously,"...do you mean the teachers too?"Draco grimaces. "Well yes, I believe they formed a betting pool last year.""What?!Where'd you hear that?!"The entire school ships Harry and Draco and tries to set them up together. What they don't know is that they're already dating.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 21
Kudos: 260





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm back with a Drarry fic, one of my all-time favourite ships! This fic here is inspired by a [prompt](https://fanerinogal.tumblr.com/post/154972662297/i-love-the-idea-of-a-drarry-fanfiction-where) by fanerinogal on Tumblr:
> 
> _i love the idea of a drarry fanfiction where drarry is a casually secret relationship but Hermione and the rest of the school population is completely oblivious, and so they formulate a plan to get them together and drarry watches in amusement as the school tries to sail a ship that's already canon_
> 
> I realized that I absolutely must read such a fic, and when I couldn't find one, I resorted to the only means I have left at my disposal: writing one myself! Such is the life of a desperate fangirl/writer.  
> I'll be changing up a few things. I'm also trying out a new writing style. I'm going to try writing in present tense this time.  
> So enjoy!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: As much as I want to Draco and Harry as my own, I unfortunately don't own any of the characters.

* * *

Draco stands in the darkness of the empty classroom, waiting.

He's _late_. What's taking him so long? Did something happen?

Draco sighs and shakes his head. There's really no need to worry. Harry is, after all, notorious for his lack of punctuality. That doesn't stop the bubble of anxiety in his chest however. He drums his fingers on top of one of the unused tables in the classroom, creating a steady rhythm of soft noise to combat the stifling silence.

The door to the classroom suddenly creaks open, seemingly by itself, and silently swings itself shut a few seconds later.

"You're late."

The air in front of the door shimmers and Harry seemingly appears out of nowhere, shedding his Invisibility Cloak. His entire face is flushed red, his dark pupils blown wide. Worry and concern squeezes Draco's heart like a vise and he starts forward, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong, when Harry speaks.

"I think the entire school's trying to set us up together," Harry blurts out, the words leaving his mouth in a rush.

Draco blinks. He had been expecting a number of excuses—" _Hermione insisted that I do my homework and wouldn't leave until I got it done", "Ron wanted to play wizard chess with me", "I nearly ran into Snape on the way here"_ —but this is unexpected. Still, this isn't news to him.

"Oh, so you've finally noticed?"

"I—what? You _know?_ "

Draco smiles fondly at his oblivious boyfriend. "Really, Harry. They aren't exactly being subtle about it. The entire school's been in on it since... hmm... I'd say at the very least, last year."

"Well I didn't—wait! When you say the entire school..." Harry trails off, licking his lips nervously,"...do you mean the teachers too?"

Draco grimaces. The idea of his _teachers_ being invested in his love life is _very_ disturbing. "Well yes, I believe they formed a betting pool last year."

" _What?!_ Where'd you hear that?!" Harry cries out in alarm.

"I overheard Sprout and"—Draco shudders—" _Snape_ having a conversation once. They mentioned a betting pool, and Sprout mentioned something called _Drarry..._? I have no idea what that— _Harry!_ Merlin! Are you alright?"

Harry is choking on air, his face becoming even redder than it was before. It would've been a very adorable sight if it wasn't for the fact that he looks like he might be having a heart attack.

" _Drarry?! Snape?!_ "

"Yes," Draco says gravely. "There was also that time in second year when he paired us together for the dueling club." If it had been any other teacher, that would've been insignificant, but it's _Snape._ That action alone spoke volumes.

Harry looks faintly horrified. Draco can understand that. Anyone would be horrified when faced with the fact that the teacher you hate the most—who hates you just as much—has been making bets about the outcome of your love life and trying to discreetly set you up with someone.

"Never mind that," Draco says briskly, moving to lean against one of the tables. "How did you find out?"

Harry picks up his Invisibility Cloak from the floor and walks over to Draco, giving him a peck on the lips before sinking into a chair beside him. "Ron accidentally let it slip to me."

Draco snorts. "Figured the Weasel would be the one who spilled the beans." He looks down at Harry, seated in the chair. "So what are we going to do about it?"

"What?"

"What are we going to do about it? Weasley knows you know now, which definitely changes things. By tomorrow, everyone who's in on it will know that you're aware of it too."

"So?"

" _So_ ," Draco emphasizes, exasperation in his tone, "they're going to do _something_ about it. They don't know that we're already dating. The fact that you know of their plot means they'll try harder to get us together."

"Why?"

"It stands to reason that once an idea has been planted in a person's mind, it will be very difficult for them to get rid of it. They'll think that once the idea of dating me is in your head, you'd be more likely to consider it. Now's their chance."

"So we tell them we're dating."

"But Harry," Draco drawls, a sly smirk curling his lip, "where's the fun in _that?_ "

A mischievous smile lights up Harry's face. "Hmm, I like the way you're thinking."

"Let's get them back for trying to play matchmaker. We'll torment them with our obliviousness and stubbornness. Don't forget to prattle on and on about my elegant ice-gray-blue eyes, or whatever it is you said before, and I'll moon over how bloody emerald green your eyes are. Drive them crazy with our lovesick pining."

"You're a cruel one, baby."

Draco wrinkles his nose. "I will never understand why Muggles call their lovers 'baby' or 'babe.' Why do you insist on using that infernal nickname?

Harry laughs. He stands up and winds his arms around Draco's neck, drawing him closer. "Well, maybe it's because I think you're cute?"

"Hmm, I doubt that," Draco murmurs distractedly, pulling Harry closer to him and nuzzling his neck. "If you think I'm cute like a baby, I'd be offended."

"Maybe it's because you're very precious to me?" Harry whispers, the words sending a shiver of arousal through Draco's body. "Maybe it's because I'll love you forever?"

That was the last straw for Draco. He lifts his head from Harry's neck and kisses him hard, hands coming up to cup his boyfriend's face—

"Meow."

Harry and Draco jump apart, startled.

"Did you forget to put up the locking and sound-muffling charms?" Draco hisses at Harry, drawing his wand.

"Um, maybe?" Harry murmurs back, dashing across the room to snatch his Invisibility Cloak from where he had left it on a table. He pulls the Cloak around his body and disappears into thin air while Draco hurriedly casts a Disillusionment Charm on himself.

"We'd better get out of here, before she sees us," Harry says. Draco almost nods at him before he realizes that Harry can't see him anyway.

But before either of them can move, the door of the classroom creaks open. The light from the hallway spills into the room through the crack in the doorway, illuminating the small silhouette of Mrs. Norris. Her lamp-yellow eyes flit across the room shrewdly. Harry and Draco stand still, neither daring to move lest she discovers them there. For a tense moment, her eyes seem to fix on the spot where Harry and Draco are standing, unseen. Then she took her eyes off them and meows, leaving the room with her tail swishing behind her. The door inexplicably slams shut behind her.

Harry and Draco don't move from their spots until they're certain Mrs. Norris won't be coming back. Harry breathes a sigh of relief and tugs the Invisibility Cloak off himself.

"It _is_ late, we'd better get going before Blaise wakes up and discovers me gone," Draco says, momentarily undoing his Disillusionment Charm to speak to Harry.

"Lucky for me, Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean all sleep like logs," Harry chuckles. "See you tomorrow, babe."

"Good night, love," Draco laughs, giving him a peck on the lips. Harry blows a kiss at him and wraps the Invisibility Cloak around himself once more. He carefully eases the door open and slips out.

Five minutes later, Draco leaves, a perfect Disillusionment Charm camouflaging him into his surroundings so well that he's practically invisible. He silently tiptoes into his dormitory, making sure to be quiet in case he accidentally wakes Blaise, and sinks into the comfort of his bed. He smiles up at the green canopy above him, listening to the sounds of Blaise's gentle breathing.

Tomorrow, the fun begins.  
  


* * *


	2. Chapter 1

* * *

" _Draco~"_ Pansy drops into the seat next to Draco, turning to flash him a deceptively sweet smile. Draco has known her long enough to know that that isn't a good sign. "What's your favourite colour?"

Draco stares at her like she'd grown two heads. "Green. Obviously," he puts in for good measure. He thinks he knows where this is going.

"Like our House colours?" Pansy asks, smile growing wider.

"Are you colour-blind, Pans? Surely you would've told me," Draco drawls, drawing satisfaction from her split-second scowl before it is replaced by another honeyed smile.

"Just making sure that's all. Hey, Blaise," Pansy greets, not looking away from Draco. Blaise returns her greeting and sits down on Draco's other side.

"Good for you, Draco. Our robes are black and green. You can see your favourite colour whenever you want to," Blaise says, reaching over to pile scrambled eggs on his plate.

"Is there a particular reason you're stating the obvious?"

"Sounds very convenient," Pansy says, ignoring Draco. "Now, if only there were boys with brown eyes who deserve me. I'd have those beautiful brown eyes all to myself, to admire and stare at all day."

Draco stares at his two best friends incredulously. "Are we discussing colours? At breakfast? What's up with you two?"

They both pretend not to hear him.

"Do you want to know what I noticed yesterday, Pans?" Blaise asks, abandoning his eggs and leaning over Draco to talk to Pansy.

"What is it?" Pansy's question is too enthusiastic to be genuine.

"Potter's eyes are _green,_ " Blaise whispers conspiratorially, as if it means something. They both fix their gazes on him.

"What do you think, Draco?" Pansy prompts, eyes sparkling.

Draco resists the urge to put his head in his hands. They're so _bad_ at this.

"I have no idea what either of you buffoons are prattling on about. I suggest the two of you get your heads on straight before it's time for classes," Draco grumbles, internally trying not to laugh at his friends' disgruntled expressions. He stands up. "I'm going back to the common room, I think I left my Transfiguration homework there." He hadn't, of course, but he'll do anything to get out of this very strange conversation. "I'll see you in Charms."

He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving his two friends at the Slytherin table. The moment Draco is out of the Great Hall, Blaise drags a hand down his face exasperatedly.

"How can someone so smart be so _oblivious?_ " he moans.  
  


* * *

Harry fidgets uncomfortably, trying to focus on the ugly plant he's trying to pot. He can't remember its name nor any of its properties, not with half the class's eyes boring holes into the back of his head. Even Professor Sprout is darting subtle glances at him.

Harry is used to being stared at, but it never gets easier. He averts his eyes from everyone else's gazes, hoping that if he just ignores them they'll stop disturbing him. He jumps when Ron touches his shoulder.

"Mate, you're shoveling soil onto the table," he whispers. Harry looks down at his work and winces. The soil he's supposed to be shoveling into the pot is scattered all over the table. The ugly thing in the pot is wriggling around like a giant hyperactive worm, shaking the pot with its frenzied movements.

...It really _is_ ugly. As he watches, the thing gives a particularly violent wriggle that sends the pot teetering precariously on the edge of the table. Harry flings his arms out to catch it right before it tips over the side. He represses a sigh.

This is going to be a long day.

* * *

This is officially the _first_ (and almost certainly the last) time Harry has ever looked forward to a Potions class. Not because he is excited for the class itself, mind you, but because Potions is the first class the Gryffindors will be having with the Slytherins today.

He's already tired of the weight of everyone's stares—heavier than usual—on him, so he almost can't wait to go down to the dungeons where he won't be the only one subjected to everyone's staring. There's also the fact that his boyfriend will be there too, so they'll be able to begin their charade.

Harry walks down to the dungeons with a spring in his step, ignoring Ron and Hermione's concerned gazes. He finds the Slytherins already in their usual seats, feeling strangely relieved at the usual glares and scowls he gets instead of more staring. He spots Draco at the front of the room, sitting beside Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson.

Harry moves to their usual seats at the back of the room and drops his bag heavily onto the table. He sits down between Ron and Hermione, pretending not to notice the look Ron is giving him.

"Harry, mate."

Harry turns and faces his best friend. "Yeah?"

"You remember what I said last night?"

Harry winces. "How could I forget something like that?"

"Right." Ron gulps. "Well—" Whatever Ron is about to say is cut off by Snape's arrival. He sweeps into the room, black robes billowing, and stares down his hooked nose at them all.

"Today, you shall be grouped into pairs."

Harry gapes at him. _Pairs?_ This has never happened before.

"I shall be grouping you according to your skillset. This is to help those of you _incompetent_ enough"—his eyes seem to linger on Harry—"to achieve a failing grade in your tests and classwork. The partners I have chosen for you shall be your partners for the entire school year. _Might_ I remind you that to be joining my class for NEWTs, you must achieve an Outstanding in your OWLs," Snape snaps. He narrows his eyes at them, his lips curling disdainfully.

"Parkinson, with Zabini." Snape starts down the row of desks, pairing up the students as he walks along their tables. "Patil, Brown. Crabbe, Goyle. Thomas, Finnigan. Nott, Longbottom. Bulstrode, Greengrass. Weasley, Granger."

He stops at Harry's desk at the very back of the class and smirks down at him. "Potter. With Malfoy." Snape's eyes glitter maliciously and he turns away, heading back to the front of the class.

Wait, is this all a ploy to get him to sit together with Draco?

"Potter!" Snape barks. "Have you gone deaf? You are to move to the front with Mr. Malfoy!"

The look on Ron's face is positively gleeful, and if Harry didn't already know about everyone's matchmaking attempts he would've felt hurt. He gathers up his bag and walks to the front of the class where Draco is sitting. Harry drops his bag onto the table forcefully and musters up his best glare at Draco. Draco smirks at him disdainfully, though he can see a twinkle of mischief in his ice-gray eyes. The entire room seem to collectively hold their breath.

"Malfoy."

"Potter."

They simply glare at each other for a few seconds before Harry plops down into his seat with more noise than necessary. He ignores the prickly feeling of fifteen pairs of eyes on him and sets about preparing his cauldron. Beside him, Draco crosses his arms over his chest. The look in his eyes hold a gleam of challenge, as if he was saying "if it's a show they want, then it's a show they'll get."

"Potter."

Harry looks up at Draco.

"What?" he asks harshly.

"The ingredients."

"What about them?"

"We can't brew a bloody potion without ingredients, Potter. I would've thought you'd have known that by now," Draco snipes.

Harry scowls. "Then go and get them from the cupboard."

"With your abysmal potions-brewing skills, Potter, I'll be the one doing all the work here, so it's only fair if _you_ get the ingredients." Draco leans forward, smirking mockingly. "After all, aren't you Gryffindors all about _fair?"_

If Harry didn't know that Draco is acting, he would've smacked the smirk off the smug bastard's face. In spite of himself however, Harry _is_ kind of enjoying faking another one of their dramatic pretend fights.

"Since when do you care about fairness?" Harry demands, adopting a suitably angry tone.

"Since it benefits me," Draco replies without missing a beat.

Harry scowls at him, though he can't help but think that Draco looks really hot when he's smirking like that. He gets up and storms over to the cupboard, hurriedly gathering the ingredients they need, all the while aware of Draco's and everyone else's eyes on his back (and in Draco's case, his ass). He returns to their desk and dumps all the ingredients on their table, dropping into his seat with an irritated huff.

"There's a good boy," Draco drawls silkily, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry growls. "Stop acting like a git and get to work."

They manage to work in silence for exactly two minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

"For Salazar's sake, Potter, stir the potion properly! You're getting it all over my robes!"

"Well, sorry you're such a prissy princess, Malfoy."

"This has nothing to do with—Potter, you bloody idiot, don't put that in!" Draco snatches his wrist before he can drop the belladonna he was holding into the cauldron. Harry hears Lavender gasp behind him.

"But we're _supposed_ to put the belladonna in!"

"Can you read? You're supposed to add the beetle eyes first! They're the neutralizers! If you put the belladonna in now, you'll set the potion on fire!"

Harry squints at the instructions on the board and finds that Draco is right. "Alright, jeez." He looks down at his hand. Draco still has a death grip on Harry's wrist, as if he's afraid that the second he lets go, Harry will dump the belladonna into the potion and set it on fire. "Malfoy, let go of my hand."

Draco releases Harry's hand, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He turns away and busies himself with preparing the beetle eyes. Harry internally grins.

Lavender and Parvati are giggling behind them, and they aren't the only ones. Draco spins around to glare at them.

"What's the matter with you lot? Have you been afflicted with defective Cheering Charms?" he snarls. They only giggle harder. Someone wolf-whistles from the back.

Draco grumbles grumpily under his breath. Harry thinks he looks like a disgruntled blond kitten. Cute.

In the next hour, Harry and Draco have nine more different arguments—four of which are shouting matches—the contents ranging from the number of clockwise stirs they have to make to the potion, how many minutes they have to wait before they add the wolfsbane into the simmering cauldron, to the proper way of sitting on the bench ( _"It's called etiquette, Potter! I wouldn't expect you to get it, what with you practically living in a dumpster."_ ), and they nearly blow up their potion once again. Snape surprisingly doesn't scold them at all, which shows just how much he actually ships them. Harry finds it disturbing.

Harry and Draco leave the classroom snarling at each other. Inside however, they're mentally high-fiving each other for a successful performance.

Harry is having _way_ too much fun messing with everyone.  
  


* * *

Hermione is on her way back from the girls' bathroom when a hand shoots out of a nearby classroom, clamps down on her arm, and drags her into the room. She jerks her arm out of the person's grip and, to her surprise, finds herself face to face with Pansy Parkinson.

"Granger," Pansy sniffs. "There is something we need your assistance with."

"We?"

"Blaise and I. And I suppose everyone else in this school too."

Hermione raises an eyebrow. "You're going to have to be more specific, Parkinson."

Pansy sighs and crosses her arms. "It's Draco and Potter."

"Oh. Is something wrong?"

"No. Well, yes. Just the fact that they haven't gotten their shit together and asked each other out. Potter's the Gryffindor, where's that damned Gryffindor courage when you need it?"

Hermione's eyes widen. "What? But they're—"

"Clearly in love with each other, yes, Granger. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. And here I thought you were some sort of genius. You were there in Potions, you saw the sexual tension, it's bloody unbearable! There must be something we can do!" Pansy frowns at Hermione. "Can you give Potter a little nudge in the right direction? The bloody dense fool should listen to you, at any rate. Get him to ask Draco out!"

"But—"

"Great, that's settled. In the meantime, Blaise and I'll continue badgering that oblivious idiot of a best friend of mine until he can see what's right in front of him!" she grumbles frustratedly under her breath, still scowling. She saunters towards the door, and pauses. She turns back to Hermione. "Good day to you, Granger." Without waiting for a reply, she leaves.

Hermione stares at the open door. "But...they're already together..."

* * *


	3. Chapter 2

* * *

"Ron." Harry pokes his sleeping best friend with his quill. "Ron."

"Mmmm," Ron murmurs drowsily. He doesn't lift his head up from where it was resting on his books.

"Ron, maybe you should go to bed. Finish this tomorrow," Hermione says, a touch of concern in her voice. "Not you, Harry," she admonishes sternly when Harry makes to get up too. "You're almost done with your essay, you should just finish it before going to bed."

Harry slumps back down into his seat dejectedly. Hermione spares him a sympathetic glance as Ron blearily gathers up his books and stumbles up the stairs to the boys' dormitory with a huge yawn. Sighing, Harry picks up his quill and tries to concentrate on finishing his Transfiguration essay.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are the crackling of the fireplace and the scratching of their quills. Then Hermione breaks the silence.

"Harry?"

Harry hums in acknowledgement, not looking up from his essay.

Hermione puts down her quill and fixes him with a scrutinizing look. "Are you happy?" she asks softly.

Harry's quill scratches to a stop. "What?" _What a strange question to ask out of the blue._

"Is he good to you?"

"Er...who?" Harry feels like he's missing something here.

She places a hand on his arm reassuringly. "You don't have to pretend, Harry. I know."

"Know what?" he asks, confused.

"That you're dating Malfoy."

Harry drops his quill onto the table with a clatter, spraying droplets of ink all over his nearly completed essay. "I—what? How— _how_ did you know?"

Hermione smiles mysteriously. "Answer the question, Harry."

"Ah...um..." Harry fumbles for words. "Y-yeah. I'm happy," he says after a moment, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. He stills and a soft smile lights up his face. "He makes me so happy."

Hermione watches the happy smile on her best friend's face. "Then that's good enough for me." She sighs. "I don't claim to understand your choice, but I want you to know that I support you," she says resolutely. "Though I guess if you actually like him, then he can't be all that bad," she adds as an afterthought.

Harry laughs. "He can be a real prat sometimes. But I wouldn't change a single thing about him." His smile fades. "But most of it is just an act. I mean, his parents are still on Voldemort's side. He can't be seen being friendly with us, it could put them in danger."

"' _Still'?_ " Hermione, sharp as always, asks. "You make it sound like they won't be for long."

"Well," Harry says, chewing on his lip anxiously, "these past few months, he's been trying to get them to switch sides. He says he knows his parents don't actually like being on Voldemort's side. Maybe back then they did, when Voldemort wasn't a noseless slimy bastard torturing and killing enemies and followers alike. They only stay because they can't exactly leave. He says that if they could leave, they would have done it already. It's not that easy, of course. We'd have to figure out a way to give them protection when or if they betray Voldemort."

"You could bring it up with Dumbledore, I'm sure he'll have a solution."

"Yeah, maybe I will. Anyway, that's why he acts the way he does. Also," Harry recalls, smirking fondly, "he insists he has a reputation to uphold." Hermione rolls her eyes.

There is a moment of silence.

"Um, 'Mione?" Harry says tentatively. "Do you mind not telling everyone?"

"Why?" Hermione's eyes narrow. "Harry, if you're worried they won't acce—"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Harry is quick to reassure her. "It's just _really_ _fun_ messing with them."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione chastises halfheartedly, her tone exasperated but fond. She shakes her head in amusement. "Well, I guess it _is_ a _little_ bit funny."

Harry grins. "Exactly."

"Alright, I won't tell." Hermione winks at him, uncharacteristically playful. "It's getting late though, you'd better finish your essay."

"Oh no, do I have to rewrite this? I spilled some ink on it!"

"Oh! Sorry about that!"  
  


* * *

"Draco? Draco?" Pansy waves a hand in front of her best friend's face. Draco blinks at her, coming out of his reverie. "You still with me?"

"Sorry, Panse. It's just _strange,_ " Draco says in lieu of an explanation.

"What is?" Pansy asks curiously.

"Potter's eating _cereal._ " He spits the word out like a curse word. "He's never eaten cereal since the day he set foot in Hogwarts!"

Pansy raises an unamused eyebrow at him. "And why have you been watching him eat these past few years? Some might call you a tad _obsessed._ "

Draco snorts. "Please, it's completely normal to keep a casual eye on your archnemesis."

"Casual? Don't lie to me, Draco dear, the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables are on opposite ends of the hall. You'd have to be actively looking to be able to see the Gryffindors, much less watch a particular one eat," Pansy croons with savage satisfaction.

Draco turns his nose up into the air. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, really? If you know that Harry Potter hates cereal just from _casual observation,_ then I'm sure you'll know all the kinds of food Blaise and I, your best friends since we were six, love and hate with a passion," Pansy challenges, her lips pulling up into a smirk. Draco mirrors her expression, grinning boldly.

"Well, of course Panse." He lifts his finger and points at a plate of bacon down the table. "You hate the bacon here at Hogwarts because you find them too greasy and oily, but you love the bacons your house elves cook because they're crispy. You love chocolate pudding because, and I quote, 'they look as dark as my soul but everyone loves them anyway because they're actually really sweet.' You like escargots and oysters, but hate lobsters because of that one time a lobster pinched you when you were seven. Just so you know, that incident has no bearing whatsoever on the actual taste of lobsters." He gestures at his plate, piled high with eggs. "You only like scrambled eggs. Blaise, on the other hand, loves every kind of egg, cooked in any way. His favourites are poached eggs and omelettes, but he'll eat any kind of egg as long as it's edible. Blaise loves crabs and fish, but he hates oysters because of that one time he ate half-raw oysters and ended up getting a stomachache and puking his guts out. He tried Muggle pizza once and ended up throwing it up and horribly offending the chef when he declared it as 'an abomination and a disgrace to food," or something. Of course, it turned out that the chef had accidentally used expired tomato sauce for the pizza, but Blaise refuses to try it ever again. Do I need to go on?"

Pansy's expression is a mix of disbelief, frustration and vexation. She scowls and purses her lips in annoyance, her left eyebrow twitching with irritation. Draco's lips curl up into a satisfied smirk as he relishes in the sight. She sends him a cutting glare, looking like she is debating the merits and demerits of throwing a Stinging Jinx at his face.

"You're really annoying, you know that? I don't know why I put up with you," she growls. Draco has known her long enough to know that she doesn't mean it.

"Aw, Pansy dear, don't be such a sore loser," Draco purrs, exuding smugness. "I won."

"Alright, fine," Pansy grumbles without any heat. "I still think that it's disturbing."

"What is?" Draco asks faux-innocently.

"The fact that you know your supposed _archnemesis_ ' _s_ eating habits as well as you know your best friends'."

Draco shrugs nonchalantly. "Well, they do say keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

" _Urgh_."

Blaise chooses that moment to show up. "Did I miss something?" he says, raising an eyebrow as he takes in Draco's triumphant expression and Pansy's defeated slump.

"Blaiseeee," Pansy whines, "Draco's being annoying again."  
  


* * *

"Hey, Harry," Dean says, sliding into the seat beside Harry and grinning at him. "So you know how Seamus and I are dating?"

Harry freezes, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He slowly puts it down. " _W_ _hat?_ _!_ You're _dating_ _Seamus?"_

Dean raises an eyebrow at him in surprise. "You didn't know? Harry, you saw us kissing in the common room yesterday."

"I-I thought it was a dare!" Harry splutters, his cheeks reddening.

Dean laughs. "Yeah, but you found us making out in a broom closet last week and in an empty classroom five days ago. And we weren't exactly being quiet in the dorms three nights ago. How could it have been a dare?"

"W-well..." Harry tries pathetically, "maybe it was a long-term dare?" He's so embarrassed, how could he have not seen it before? Now that he thinks about it, Dean and Seamus aren't exactly being subtle. In fact, one can almost say that they are quite unabashedly flaunting their relationship. He grabs the nearest bowl of food and begins stuffing his face in an attempt to distract himself from his own humiliation. To his utter dismay, he finds that he had managed to grab a bowl of cereal.

"Well, that wasn't actually the point I wanted to make but now you know!" Dean says cheerily. "Anyways, my point is, you know none of us mind, right?"

"Mind what?" Harry asks a little distractedly, trying not to taste the awful cereal in his mouth. He resists the urge to gag.

"If you're gay. Or bi, for that matter. Or any of the other sexualities."

"Oh, uh, okay. Good to know," Harry says, knowing where this is going but playing along anyway. He wrinkles his nose disgustedly at the cereal.

Dean opens his mouth to say something else but is cut off by an arm being slung around his waist.

"He means," Seamus interrupts, grinning deviously at Harry, "that you can snog anyone you'd like and none of us would judge. Even if said person is a certain blond Slytherin git named Draco Malfoy."

Dean turns around and whacks his boyfriend over the head. "Seamus! Do you not have any tact?"

"What?" Seamus whines, rubbing his head. "Harry already knows, right? I don't see the point of beating around the bush." Harry thinks that he has a point. Maybe if the entire school had learnt some straightforwardness instead of sneaking around behind their backs and trying to do some subtle matchmaking, Harry and Draco wouldn't feel the need to take revenge by playing up their obliviousness and having more frequent encounters that just _oozes_ sexual tension, purposely making their self-appointed jobs a lot harder.

Dean sighs at his boyfriend and turns back to Harry.

"Even if he has no tact or subtlety whatsoever"—Dean ignores Seamus's "hey!"—"Seamus is right. It's so obvious that you're head over heels in love with him. Ask him out already!"

Harry avoids their eyes, looking down at his soggy cereal. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he grumbles, fighting the urge to grin.

* * *

Draco is on his way back from his Arithmancy class when he is accosted in the corridor.

"Granger," he says stiffly, narrowing his eyes at her warily. He's opening his mouth to spew out a scathing insult when Granger speaks.

"I know you're dating Harry," she says, her expression inscrutable.

 _That damn Potter!_ Draco immediately thinks angrily. _Didn't I tell him not to go around saying anything to anyone? Even if he wanted to tell his best friends, he should've at least consulted me first! When I get my hands on him..._

"Did he tell you?" Draco asks, his calm facade in place, none of his internal turmoil showing on his face.

"No," Granger says, an annoying twinkle in her eyes, "I figured it out myself."

Of course she did. Well, at least it's good to know that Harry hadn't gone blabbing to his friends about their relationship without asking for his permission. He resolves to trust Harry more.

Draco glances furtively around the corridor. There's no one else around. They're alone. He still puts up a Silencing Charm for good measure though. "Then, what is it that you want to talk to me about, Granger?" Draco asks a little uncertainly.

"Treat him well, Malfoy," Granger says seriously, her gaze burning into him like she can see into the very depths of his soul. He crosses his arms over his chest in a slightly irrational attempt to protect his bared heart from her piercing eyes.

"Is this what you Muggles call a 'shovel talk'?"

Granger looks a little surprised that he knows of the term. "No, not really. I know that Harry can make his own decisions, and he can choose for himself what's best for him. Even though some of his past decisions have been somewhat _questionable,_ I know that he won't choose wrong regarding this matter. If Harry decides that he wants you, that you're the one who can make him happy, then I trust that you're the right one for him. I'm just doing my duty as his friend to make sure you know that."

Draco swallows the lump in his throat. Nope, he isn't feeling touched at all. Nope. Not at all. And yet, he somehow finds himself opening his mouth and saying, "If you must know, I care for Harry very much. I want to make him as happy as he makes me." He snaps his jaw shut and coughs, trying to get rid of the burning in his cheeks. Merlin! Why in the name of Salazar's saggy pants did he say that?

Draco finds that Harry's usually the reason for his lack of control these days. Love apparently _does_ make fools of them all. Draco hopes that it won't be a recurring thing.

Granger grins. "Okay. That's good."

Draco frowns at her. "Is that all?"

"No." Granger's gaze turns serious once again, holding him rooted to the spot. "Make sure he treats you well too."

Draco stares at her in shock, mouth slightly agape. _Did she really just—?_ She smiles at him.

"I'll see you around, Malfoy." She turns on her heel and walks back up the corridor. Just when she's about to turn the corner, Draco's mind finally unfreezes itself.

"Granger!" he calls out to her. She turns back to him, eyebrow raised. He gives her an almost sincere half-smirk. "Call me Draco."

She blinks at him, startled, and then she grins. "Only if you call me Hermione."

"Deal."

Hermione beams at him and walks away.  
  


* * *


End file.
